If I found you would you let me come and stay
by vigilantism
Summary: Jack planned for so long to get out of the city that it took a suspicious new guy to make him realize he didn't want to leave. [Note: I've pretty much ignored Sarah here because she didn't fit with what I was trying to accomplish. Her relationship with Jack seems forced in the film, and anyway, the purpose of my story was something else! I hope no one minds. I didn't, after all.]


When Jack first saw David and his brother, they looked like easy pickings. He wasn't really planning to make _friends_ with them; he was planning to make a deal, get himself just that little bit further ahead. Jack had learned from a young age to look out for himself and himself alone. The problem with David and Les, though, was that he'd only judged half right. _Les_ was an easy target, easily impressed, kinda gullible. _David_...was a much tougher nut to crack.

But Jack didn't mind a challenge. Gave him something to do, something _interesting_. For Jack, New York wasn't all that interesting a place, because he'd been there too long, selling papers, stealing food, running from Snyder. Anything that held his attention the way that David did was a welcome change from the old routine.

David was resistant from the first. He was skeptical of Jack's methods. He liked the real truth with no improvements. He was overprotective of Les, and that made him _more_ skeptical. Jack laughed it all off, waved a hand at it. But deep down, he wondered what it was like to care about someone like that. Or to _be_ cared about.

He tried to ignore that feeling. He had places to go, after all. He wasn't going to be stuck in the dirty city begging for money and selling papers forever. He had _plans_.

And David...had a family. What room was there for Jack in all of that?

The first time he met David's family was the first time he really _thought_ about family at all. He'd been without one for so long, and the one he'd had wasn't exactly something to brag about. And his other friends were all orphans or runaways. Kids with families didn't usually _need_ to work. And anyway, Jack didn't pay that much damn attention. He'd just sort of...ended up tagging along with David on accident.

After he left David's house that night, he tried hard to convince himself he wasn't the least bit jealous of that life. An actual place to live, parents who loved you, siblings, the whole nine yards. But Jack had _dreams_ , didn't he? He'd been holding on to the Santa Fe pamphlet for a long time. He wasn't about to give that up for some bozo and his family that he'd just met! Some bozo who didn't even really _like_ him, at that. Right?

Despite his attempts to convince himself that he didn't care, he took David and Les home every night that week. He didn't always stay for dinner, sure, but he still took them home.

One night, they brought Les home early and went and sat on the roof.

"Where do you go when you leave?" David asked. "I know you don't always go back to the boarding house. I asked."

Jack laughed, a little too hard, to hide his surprise. Since when did David care about something like that? So he shrugged. "Oh, you know, around. There's lotsa places you can go when no one's watchin', Davey."

"Like where?" David asked, leaning on his elbows on the edge of the building and leveling his gaze at Jack.

Jack, still not quite used to the way David would drill into him without even really trying, just looked at him blankly for a second. Then he looked away and shrugged again. "Oh, you know, nowhere you'd be interested in."

"Try me."

Jack's answering laughter had an edge of nervousness to it. "Oh, come on, Davey. You got it all cushy here with your family and everything. You don't wanna run around New York gettin' all dirty and messed up."

"What do you think I do all day?" David asked, standing up again. "Are you afraid to show me what you do when no one's watching you, is that it?"

Jack shook his head. "One of these days, you're gonna hafta stop being so suspicious. Shortens your lifespan."

"You read that in the paper?" David asked, deadpan.

"Yeah, maybe," Jack replied, defensively. There was silence between them for a moment before Jack relented. "All right, whatever. Come on." He pulled his hat up and shoved it onto his head, then turned to go down the fire escape. He paused on the ladder to look at David, to check if he was following. David hadn't moved, but when their eyes met, he did. If Jack was bluffing, he was going to keep calling it.

Lucky for Jack, he was a quick thinker.

He led David back through the winding streets. Things were quiet enough, for the most part. There were always bums and beggars, but most of them were hunkering down for the night. It wasn't anywhere near winter, so people just slept wherever they could. In winter, they'd all have to be more creative, or they'd sleep in clumps. Jack would probably be one of them, later, since he'd get back too late to get into the boarding house. He'd been too restless to sleep early lately, so he'd taken to just catching a couple hours when and where he could. But there was no point in telling David that; David judged him harsh enough as it was.

He took David into a back alley, following the sounds of laughter and shouting. There was a rundown bar back there, run by a friend of Medda's. Jack was in tight enough with Medda to give him a leg up at a few places. Most of the grown ups waved Newsies off because they were kids, but Jack was practically an adult himself. Anyway, Medda's name held some weight in that part of town, and he wasn't afraid to throw it around when he had to. So he weaseled his way into the bar (it wasn't the first time he'd done it, but it was the first time in awhile), and dragged David along with him.

"You want a beer?" he asked.

"You sure spend a lot of time trying to get my family drunk," David remarked.

Jack pretended not to hear him over the noise. He grabbed a couple beers from the bar and brought them back, handing one to David.

"Live a little, Davey, you might like it," he said, and took a huge swig. The beer wasn't really all that good, but he was used to that. At least it wasn't _too_ warm. He shoved the other mug at David, giving the other boy little choice but to take it.

David stared down into it uncertainly. By the time he even decided to try it, Jack had finished half of his.

Before the night was over, Jack had finished four beers to David's almost one. They'd played cards, which Jack cheated at. David noticed, but he had the good sense not to call him on it in front of anyone else. The police came snooping around after a couple hours, mostly routinely, but Jack didn't want to take chances in a confined space. He picked up the money he'd won (which wasn't much, all told), grabbed David, and slid out the door and back into the alley.

"You're drunk," David said, catching Jack as he stumbled into the wall across the narrow alleyway.

Jack laughed and slung an arm around David's shoulders. "Nah, you ain't seen me anywhere near drunk," he said. His words slurred slightly, but he still felt _fine_. He'd been drunk before, and this wasn't like that. Anyway, like he'd admit it to David if he _was_ drunk.

They walked down the alley and turned a corner. Jack stopped walking, and David looked at him, puzzled. "This looks like a dead end."

Jack shrugged one shoulder. He turned to face David, though he didn't let him go. David didn't have any time to react before Jack's mouth was on his, still tasting faintly of beer. David froze, stiff under Jack's loose embrace.

Jack pulled back and blinked at David, puzzled. "Whatsamatter, Davey?"

"What are you doing?" David whispered.

Jack's eyebrows knitted together, but only for a second. "Thought it's what you wanted," he said. David just stared at him until he let go.

Jack shoved his hands in his pants pockets and looked up at the sky. "It's a nice night, huh?" he asked, seemingly not bothered by what had happened.

"You're drunk," David said, still not really speaking up.

"I ain't drunk, I toldja," Jack said, looking back at David. "C'mon, before your family notices you're gone," he said. Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and headed back the way they'd come, leaving David to follow him. He didn't look back the whole way back to David's place.

Once there, David grabbed Jack and spun him around. "Jack, look-"

"Look, I gotta get goin', y'know, find a place to sleep," Jack said, blowing him off. He kept his hands shoved into his pockets.

"No, about earlier-"

"It's not a big deal. I'm drunk, remember? I prob'ly won't even remember we went out, come morning. Go sleep, Davey, I'll see you at Weasel's in the morning."

David sighed, but he couldn't think of anything else to say that Jack wouldn't have a rebuttal for. He settled for mumbling that he'd see Jack tomorrow, and headed back into the building.

Jack watched him go. It was only when he was _sure_ that David was inside and not looking back down at him that he pulled his hands out of his pockets. They were curled into fists so tight that there were little bloody crescent marks left when he uncurled them.

The next morning the strike started, and whatever awkwardness there might have been between them was forgotten in the fervor of the strike. They were friends again, united with each other and the other newsboys because of a greater purpose, at least for a little while.

A couple days in, the adrenaline was still running high and everyone was feeling good. Money was tight, sure, since they weren't making anything, but money was _always_ tight. Anyway, they had a point to prove, and Jack more than anyone. He was their _leader_ , after all. Still, he felt good about it. In his own mind, Jack was convinced they were going to win, that he was invincible. That was part of _why_ he was the leader, though without David to think things through, it wouldn't have worked at all.

David found Jack on the roof of his building late that night. He'd gone up to see if Les had left his shoe up there (he said he thought he had), and Jack was laying on the building's edge, one leg hanging off. Jack sat upright as soon as he saw David, already thinking up six excuses for why he was there.

"What are you doing up here?" David asked, predictably, forgetting Les's shoe as he crossed toward Jack.

Suddenly, Jack couldn't think of any of the excuses he'd been cooking up. "I dunno, didn't have nowhere else to be, I guess."

David frowned slightly, thinking about that for a minute. He decided that was probably the truth and accepted it. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Nah, I wouldn't want to bug your folks or nothin'," Jack said, waving a hand dismissively. "Anyway, I oughtta be goin', got some stuff I gotta do."

"What do you have to do at eight o'clock at night?" David asked.

"Hey, what do you care, anyway? It's not like you own the roof or nothin'," Jack said, shifting the subject away from David's scrutiny.

"I don't care if you stay on the roof, I was just saying it's more comfortable inside. My parents like you, you know. They don't care if you come in."

"I toldja, Davey-"

"Right. Gotta go. Well, how about company? It's not so important an errand you have to go alone, is it?"

For once, Jack was the one staring at David like he'd lost his mind. That didn't last very long, though, before he regained his composure. "Well, yeah, I guess if you wanna come, it's a free country."

David rolled his eyes at the remark. "Don't disappear, I have to tell my parents I'm leaving."

Jack thought about doing _just that_ , but something made him stay. A few minutes later, David was back, following him down into the street and into the alleys. After awhile, it started to become more and more apparent that Jack had just been trying to get away; he was wandering aimlessly, with no destination in sight.

"Jack, you don't have to keep lying to me," David said, grabbing Jack's shoulder and stopping him.

Jack jerked away. "I ain't lyin' to you. I got plenty to do. I just decided I don't feel like doin' any of it," he said, sounding almost petulant. He turned away to keep walking, but David grabbed him again, refusing to let him just walk off.

"Would you look at me for a minute!?" he demanded.

Jack rolled his eyes, but did as David asked him. "Yeah, I'm lookin', and you're makin' that face at me. Satisfied?"

"No. Why did you kiss me?"

"Aw, jeez, Davey, I don't really wanna talk about this. It don't matter, I was drunk."

"You said you weren't drunk!"

"Yeah, well, you said I was."

"Uh-huh. I don't think you were _that_ drunk," David said, unimpressed with Jack's logic. He looked into the other boy's eyes, intently, still not letting him wiggle out of it. "Why did you kiss me?"

Jack shrugged and finally shook David off of him. "Lemme go, wouldja. I did it 'cause I felt like it, okay? Why do I do anything?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked!" David said, exasperated. They weren't getting anywhere.

"Why are you yellin' at me?" Jack returned, half-yelling himself.

"Why are _you_ yelling?" David shot back.

"I don't know!" Jack yelled back.

They stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed and angry, before something changed. They burst into laughter at the same moment, practically hysterical, leaning on each other to keep from falling down from the sheer force of it.

"Boy, you sure know how to work a guy up," Jack said through his laughter.

"I'm only like this with you!" David protested, but his own laughter took the bite out of the words.

Eventually, the laughter subsided, and they sunk to the ground, worn out from the adrenaline crash finally catching up to them. They'd spent a lot just laughing, letting all of that go. Jack rested against the wall of the alley. After a minute, David scooted up next to him. Jack slung an arm over his shoulders, just like he always did, like it belonged there.

"So what now, Davey?" he asked.

"I don't know. I should probably go home."

"Yeah, prolly."

But neither of them moved. They sat there, staring up at the dark sky, at the stars visible above them. The alleys got _dark_ at night, in spite of the streetlights. But it meant you could see the stars pretty well, even all the way down on the ground like they were.

"You're not still sore about that kiss, are ya?" Jack asked, glancing sideways at David.

David was quiet for a minute. "...No."

"Good."

By the time they made their way back to David's place, all the lights were out. It was late, though neither of them really knew exactly what time it was.

"See you in the mornin' right?" Jack asked,"I mean, I guess there's still a lot to do, organizin' and whatnot."

David nodded. "Yeah, of course I'll be there. Les wouldn't shut up about it if I didn't anyway."

"Uh-huh. Well, goodnight," Jack said, turning to go.

"Jack, wait," David said.

Jack turned back around, a questioning look on his face. Before he could actually say anything, David grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, then leaned in and kissed him. Jack was more than a little surprised by it, but he was more adaptable than David tended to be, and after a moment of shock, he returned the kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked when they parted.

"I thought it's what you wanted," David said.

Jack laughed, but this time it was genuine. "You're somethin' else, Dave."

"So are you," David said, but it wasn't an insult. "You know, if you want to come inside, no one will care. You don't have to sleep on the street."

"Nah, I don't want to wake your brother and sister up or nothin', it's okay. Anyways, it's nice out here this time of year. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. I can just go up on the roof or whatnot."

"You're going to sleep on our _roof_?"

"Well, sure, I toldja it's just a roof? You gonna call the bulls on me or somethin'?"

David almost laughed. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"Uh-huh. Well, night Davey."

"Goodnight Jack," David said, watching Jack disappear around the side of the building.

A little while later, Jack was laying on the roof, looking up at the stars, barely starting to doze. He heard footsteps and sat up to find David there again.

"We gotta stop meetin' like this, Davey," he said, relaxing and laying back down.

David didn't say anything. Instead, he walked over and laid down next to Jack.

"What are you doin'?" Jack rolling onto his side to face his friend. David scooted closer, letting Jack fold him into his arms.

"It's a free roof, right?" David asked.

Jack laughed and ruffled his hair. "Yeah, Davey, it's a free roof."

A few days later, they travelled to Brooklyn to convince Spot Conlon and the Brooklyn Newsies to join the strike rally. David had never been there, and Jack could tell he was trying not to be nervous. Jack, of course, wasn't the least bit nervous. He and Spot were old friends anyway, and besides, he didn't like being afraid for no reason. Spot had a reputation for a reason, sure, but he was solid. Still, it was kind of funny to watch David try not to squirm.

After Spot got into it a little with David and his mouth, he looked at Jack.

"Jackie, can I talk to ya over here for a minute?" Spot asked, eyeing David as suspiciously as ever. David looked put out, but Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

"Yeah, sure. Davey, Boots, you give us a minute?"

Boots mock-saluted and walked off down the dock a couple steps. He turned and looked at David, who hadn't followed.

"You stupid or somethin'? C'mon Davey!" he said.

David frowned at Jack for a second, then grudgingly turned and followed Boots off down the dock.

"Jackie, what the hell are you doin' with a guy like him? He's all hoity-toity, why's he even botherin' with this strike business?"

"He's real smart, Spot, we need him," Jack said, ignoring half the question.

Spot poked the top of his cane at Jack. "Yeah, I got the smart part. Got a smart mouth on 'im, sure, sure. Answer the question."

Jack rolled his eyes. "What's it matter, Spot? Better to have guys like him with us than against us."

"You know what I think, Jackie boy? I think he's only helpin' out 'cause he likes _you_. Ain't got nothin' to do with the strike or the newsies. Just _you_."

Jack puffed up at that a little bit. He knew an insult when he heard one, though he wasn't entirely sure which one of them Spot was really meaning to insult. "Yeah, so what? He's my friend."

Spot snickered at that. "Yeah, your friend, okay. You should be careful with a guy like that, you know? Don't get too soft on 'im."

Jack laughed at that. "I ain't soft on no one, Spot. You know as soon as I get the dough, I'm outta here."

Spot's smile was too knowing. "I know, Jackie, I know. Guys like him, though, they'll mess you up. Be careful anyway. Think of it as...free advice. From a pal."

"So you gonna come to the rally or what?" Jack asked.

Spot's smile didn't change. "I already toldja. Now get outta here, 'fore I get sick of your face, huh?"

Jack made a face, but he knew there wasn't going to be any changing Spot's mind. He'd do whatever he wanted, same as Jack would. That was part of what he liked about Spot, but it was frustrating him at the moment.

"Boots! Davey! Let's go!" he called. The other two joined him, and they made their way back across the river to report on what they'd found out.

Even Jack wasn't sure what was going to happen, but Spot and his boys came through. Brooklyn joined the strike, ensuring that every newsie in the city was on board. No one wanted to cross Spot and his gang, and enough of the boys liked Jack that they were willing to believe he knew what he was doing. Things were looking pretty good.

David went to sleep on the roof with Jack again, though it was hard for either of them to sleep. Jack talked a lot, about Santa Fe and all the things he was going to do when the strike was over and things were back to normal. David lay next to him, listening, unspeaking.

"You asleep?" Jack asked, after awhile.

"No."

"Something the matter?" Jack asked. He could hear it in David's tone, but he stubbornly refused to realize what the problem was.

"Nothing. Just tired. I think I'm gonna go inside, okay? Check on Les."

"Yeah, okay," he said.

David sat up. He made to get up, hesitated, turned back around, and leaned over Jack. He hung there for a minute, then pressed his lips to Jack's. Jack reached up and held up there for a minute, returning the kiss without wondering about it this time.

David got up and went back inside after that without another word.

 _Don't get too soft on 'im_ , Spot's voice said in Jack's mind. Jack sighed, loud enough to be melodramatic, even with no one left to hear it. He climbed to his feet and headed off, thinking David wasn't going to come back out anyway. And maybe Spot was right, in the end. David had a family, and what did Jack have? Nothing in New York once the strike was over.

When David came back, Jack was already gone.

The rally didn't go as planned. Someone tipped off Snyder and his goons, and they brought in the bulls to rip it all up. Even with Medda's support, things just got out of control quickly. Jack almost got away, with David's help, but he got caught at the last second, and thrown back in kid jail, feeling horribly alone all of a sudden. Things came crashing down so quickly and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Even as he thought of how far away the desert he longed for was, he thought of David, and the look on his face.

So now David knew he was really a liar, right? All it really meant was that there really _wasn't_ anything left for him in New York. He just had to figure out how to bust out again.

He took the scab deal and hated himself for it, but he was desperate. He figured, soon as he could, he'd take the money Pulitzer had given him and run, never look back. Maybe things didn't go how he wanted them to, sure, but that didn't mean he was going to let it ruin him for good. That wasn't how he worked.

Seeing David there, looking like someone had punched him in the gut, shook up his resolve a little bit.

"You got a _family_ , Dave, and what do I got? Nothin'. All I ever had was nothin'," he told him, focusing all his anger in the wrong place.

"They'd be your family too if you wanted!" David said, just as angry. "But you have to ruin everything good you have because you can't stand the thought that maybe there's something in the world that isn't Santa Fe."

"You don't know nothin' about it, Davey," Jack said, refusing to let David see how his words cut - or how true they were. He figured that was all they'd have. Spot had been wrong, and he'd messed up David, not the other way around. At least, that's what he told himself.

David's sister getting into trouble brought them back together again, washed away the anger they'd thrown at each other and replaced it with concern.

Jack finally met David's eyes again, and he realized he wasn't hiding his own hurt any better than David was. Funny, how one smart-aleck guy could walk into his life and make it all topsy-turvy like. Even funnier how maybe he didn't mind so much.

So they rallied again, sending their self-made paper out all over, pulling in kids from all across the city to shut down the scabs and teach Pulitzer a lesson in the process. And they had Denton on their side again, too - the star reporter, making up for the crap his paper had pulled by not publishing the story about the rally in the first place. So the little guy came out on top in the end, and things were on their way back to normal.

When Jack heard that Teddy Roosevelt was really coming to take him to the train yard, he forgot about family and got stars back in his eyes. It would be nice, wouldn't it, to start over somewhere else? Find something else besides hawking headlines and the smell of the factories? He sure thought so.

Roosevelt, though, was a wiser man than that. It only took a few minutes of conversation, and Jack thinking of how hurt David had looked when he'd thought they were on opposite sides of the fence.

So he asked the governor to turn him back around.

Before he could find David in the crowd again, Spot found him.

"Santa Fe's closer'n I thought," Spot said, looking up at him smugly from under his hat.

"What're you talkin' about, I didn't go to Santa Fe," Jack said. "Wise guy."

Spot laughed. "I toldja you were gettin' soft on that mouthpiece."

"I ain't soft, I just got stuff to do here, that's all."

Spot's knowing smile spread across his face. He leaned around Jack. "Hey, governor!" he called. "How 'bout a ride?"

Jack laughed and watched Spot climb into Roosevelt's carriage, headed for who-cared-where. He wouldn't really leave, of course. He loved Brooklyn and he loved the respect he got around the city. But who _wouldn't_ want to ride in the governor's carriage, given the chance?

After that, Jack moved through the throng of celebrating kids, toward a familiar curly set of hair.

"Hey, Davey, you remember that thing you said about family?" he asked, picking up as if they'd left off in the middle of a conversation.

Davey forced himself to hold a straight face and not smile. "What about it?" he asked, guarded.

"Well, I was thinkin' I'd take you up on the offer for a bit, see how I like it. If I don't like it, I can prolly just ring the governor up again and tell him I changed my mind. You think?"

David shook his head. "Sure, but, there's one condition."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"You have to sleep in the house."

Jack laughed, and threw an arm around David. Les was there, too, yelling and shouting and climbing on people. And Sarah, mercifully free from the Delanceys and their molestation. Later, they'd go home to David's parents and give them the good news they undoubtedly already knew.

Seeing the looks on all their faces, Jack couldn't help but feel that maybe the whole family thing wasn't such a bad idea.


End file.
